Page 16 of Beauty

I don’t know where I’m going or even where I’m at.

All I know is that this is the port city of the Netherlands, Rotterdam, and there’s nothing here that I recognize from home.

It’s the middle of the night and frigid out here. I hide my hands inside my shirt, not to keep people from looking but because I’m so freaking cold. I don’t have a coat to keep me warm, but I don’t want to steal. I’ve already taken these clothes off some unsuspecting stranger, and I felt terrible.

And the more I wander, the more I feel like I’m losing myself. My body.

As though I’m floating above myself and looking down, pitying the woman strolling the streets, searching for a place to go. A place of comfort. A place to call home.

But there is no such thing anymore.

Home and everything I associated it with was nothing more than a fairy tale.

A dark lie I’d told myself in order to cope with the horrible world.

A world in which I was born but never wanted.

A world in which everything would’ve been better if I had … ceased to exist.

Suddenly, my stomach contracts, and I hold my hand in front of my belly. It hurts. Badly.

What if …?

My eyes widen.

No, it can’t be.

I have to know.

I turn around and around, trying to find a shop, but there are only clothing stores and luxury boutiques.

Shit, I have to find a pharmacy. Fast.

I follow a woman who just passed me and stop in front of her. “Sorry, excuse me, ma’am, can you help me? I need a pharmacy.”

She frowns, wary of me, so I swiftly tuck my hands into my pocket. “A pharmacy?”

“Yeah, for medicine and stuff.”

“Oh. Apotheek.” She points at a street a few feet away from this one. “There’s one around there, to the left.”

“Thanks!” I say, and I rush off.

I head to the street she pointed at and find a weird store I’ve never been to but recognize from television commercials. I quickly go inside and search until I find the aisle I’m looking for.

I stare up at the product shelf, wondering what I need. I’ve never done this before, and the thought is quite daunting.

Especially when it dawns on me that I have literally zero money.

I grab one of the boxes that says it has an early detection and look at the price tag. It’s fifteen euros.

What do I do?

Do I just steal it?

I gaze around at the employees and customers, but they’re all too busy buying and selling stuff at the counter to even notice me. My conscience is weighing on me, but I still shove the package into my pocket and pull my shirt over it, praying they won’t notice.

With sweat drops forming on my face, I make my way to the exit, looking around the store like normal customers do when they’re just looking without buying. But when I get to the exit, my entire body begins to shake.